Heap Imogen Angry Angel
This is an obsession, a kind of aggression with himself It's the way hell always be He loves to rebel, to go against his ten commandments For him, that's just being free And he always will, gets his thrills, the only way he knows how Well it might make you frown But he loves, being that dove, roaming where he cares to go to a state of mind that no one knows Over there stands my angry angel and she's shaking her head, in disgrace with me Yeah over there stands my angry angel and she's frowning like hell, but I'm not feeling guilty Over and over again, more and more for the pain To release himself, from this shell Time after time, you may glare at him for the way he looks Like something drawn up from Hell But that's just his cover, from what is under it All his imagination, his passion for creation which he has discovered, uncovering a world, of amazing sensations His own little nation I don't care, I'm flying
